


Beside You In Time

by zephyr2113



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Chaptered, Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, M/M, Slow Burn, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2020-04-12 01:38:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19121968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zephyr2113/pseuds/zephyr2113
Summary: We all know that the people we meet give us so many things: hope, love, despair.  And sometimes they remind us that where we start is never where we end, even if we meet in the middle.





	Beside You In Time

**Author's Note:**

> This is going to be a long one. Title is from the Nine Inch Nails song "Beside You In Time". This is also going to be a Rick and Daryl origins story but with a switched parallel beginning. I'm adding some warnings here, just in case, because tags are confusing. These won't be explicit but I'll let you know if that changes.
> 
> Warnings for domestic violence and child abuse.

      **Prologue**  

     Lynn looked through the yellowed windshield at the grey-washed and splintered wood cabin at the end of the drive. _If mama could see me now, she'd be laughing her ass off of how far I'd sunk and say “I told you not to marry that piece of shit. Now look at ya. Tuck tail and run. And never mind you dragging that boy down with you.”_ She sighed. Nothing for it but to keep her cool, keep her sweet boy and keep moving. Opening the door, she turned back and grabbed her bag.

       “Ricky, come on, now. Help me get our stuff inside.”

       "'Kay, Mama.” Rick grabbed the two duffle bags out of the truck bed and followed his mom through the cracked grass and shifting gravel to the front door. She was struggling to turn the key, cussing up a storm and all but kicking the damn thing. “Want me to help?” He reached out to take the key. She bit off a _fucking shit_ and let go. “I’ll just get the boxes.” Trying to smile, she went back to the truck and after making sure Rick couldn't see her, sagged against the side and wiped her eyes. _He can’t find us here, at least. Not like he'd ever come this far down south, any road_.

     Two boxes each. That was all that she dared to take after Cray had left for work. She'd shaken Ricky awake, careful not to touch his arm. “Sweetie, wake up. Daddy’s gone to work but we gotta go before he gets back. I need you to keep watch. Can you do that?” Red rimmed blue eyes gazed solemnly up at her. There was silence and “Yes, ma'am.” They were gone in two hours. Lynn never looked back but Rick couldn't help staring at the fields and their grazing horses as they went by. He waved forlornly at his favorite, a rust mare named Bullet. At nine years old, he knew he would never set foot in Kentucky again.

~~~~

     Lynn Grimes was a small slip of a woman, but she was tough. But even the strongest person could not survive the beating she'd taken. It was a shame they hadn't been in time to save her, Deputy Lucas Walsh thought. He glanced behind him out into the hallway and the room across. _Such a damn shame._ Her son, Ricky, lay unconscious in the bed, a bandage wrapped around his head.

     In the two years since the Grimes' moved to King County, the Deputy's own son, Shane, and Rick had become friends. It wasn't instant, his son too loud and brash by far to Rick's solemn nature. But Shane would not be deterred and wore the other boy down. Lucas had warned Shane to tread lightly but since losing his mother to cancer the year before, the boy had become more aggressive. But Lynn had a special touch and could calm him with a word and a look. Lucas had been grateful, his shifts at the station taking precious time away from him spending time helping his boy heal.

     The two parents had met at the local grocery store when Shane had goaded him into a screaming fight about cereal of all things. He'd been humiliated but couldn't let him run roughshod over a routine set by his late wife. Lynn and Ricky had watched from down the aisle, along with half the damn county it seemed. The lady had then walked over and plunked a third box straight into the basket, looked Shane straight in the eye and said “This one has cinnamon, wheat flakes and _doesn’t_ taste like cardboard. So can we all get back to it, then?” The Walshes looked at each other, twin looks of sheepish surprise and Shane mumbled a “Sorry, ma'am.” which shocked his father out of his stupor. The boy that had been with her laughed at their expressions. The lady wore her own surprise well, though she hid it.

       “I’m Lynn and that one is my Ricky. Deputy Walsh, am I right?”

       “Yes, ma'am. This is Shane. Please call me Lucas since you saved us from the gossiping church folk.”

       “No, she didn't. It'll be worse now.”                     “Shane!”

       “What?? You know it's true.” Lynn just laughed “Nothing we ain't used to. It was lovely to have met you two. Ricky, come and say hi.” The boy with brown curly hair didn't move, even when Lynn insisted. She sighed “Well, best get this done. I’m sure we’ll see you around.” And they were gone.

     Lucas looked at his son, who was staring  thoughtfully in their direction. “We should invite them over some time, Dad. They looked lonely.” Lucas could only stare. This was the first time Shane had shown interest in anything but fights and jarring music in what felt like forever. He cleared his throat. “That's a fine idea, son.”

     And so they did and had many more visits until two nights ago. Lynn had been skittish for the last two weeks when she met with Walsh to pick up the boys from their school and sometimes the station. Rick was even more quiet, so much more vigilant that even Shane noticed and had taken to following him around whenever they were together. Lucas felt helpless, felt an unceasing nervousness like an itch at the back of his throat. 

     Then last night after a late shift, packing up at the station,  he got a call.


End file.
